Sprite
by MercuryFox22
Summary: My name is Sarah Williams and I have no idea how I got into this situation.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own the movie _Labyrinth_. Obviously.

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_**Prologue**_

My name is Sarah Williams and I have no idea how I got into this situation.

My arms and legs are stuck like glue to a chair in a dimly lit room. I'm not bound by any ropes or tape, but I recognize the tingle of magic at work running along my skin where it makes contact with the wood. The same feeling once ran down my throat and pooled in my stomach in the form of a bite of peach.

But I'm not slipping into any gauzy dream now. I'm wide awake and it's just me, the table, and the woman.

The woman. She is beautiful, but that doesn't impress me. I _am_ struck by her dress, which appears to be woven from hundreds of shimmering butterfly wings seamlessly stitched together. Rather than beautiful, it looks very, very cruel.

She's kidnapped me, and in my mind I've already connected her with the last kidnapper I knew. She looks just as arrogant as he, though decidedly less amused. Reclining back in her own chair, she studies me through pale white eye lashes.

Which is actually very deceiving, that ivory hair piled on her head. There isn't a single wrinkle to disrupt the seashell pink of her skin.

But I'm too annoyed to wonder at her age now. Instead I growl at her, "Who are you and where the hell am I?"

She blinks once, owlishly, as if amazed that I can speak a human language. Her eyes have a glassy quality to them and are ice blue.

Then she opens her mouth to speak, and the most amazing thing happens.

Orchids fall from her lips.

The blossoms materialize from nothing in the pink cavern of her mouth and tumble out to fall in the folds of her lap. The petals are so airy and light, they do nothing to hinder her speech, but only give it a whispery after-echo. It's all I can do to just gape. The woman is drooling flowers!

I'm so wrapped up in trying to comprehend what I see, that her words don't fully reach me until a few seconds after she's done speaking. "My name is Alma, dear." There is no affection in the pet name. "Would you care for some wine?"

There is a glass filled with liquid red something that I swear was not on the table a blink ago. I scowl and ignore it. Besides, I still can't lift my arms.

I repeat, "Where am I?"

Whether because she sees I'm uninterested or because she never really expected me to accept it in the first place, she picks up the glass for herself and sips daintily, pinky extended.

"We're in a waiting room, I suppose," she says finally, the petals now landing in her wine and floating like lilies. "We're waiting for your king to come looking for you."

"He's not my king," I snap, knowing immediately who it she's referring to. "And I'm not waiting around for him or anyone else! I saved myself before and I'll do it again."

For the first time, she smiles. Her teeth are pointed and pearly white in the gloom.

"No wonder he likes you," she says. "Everything Jareth's ever had has melted to butter in his hands, women included. But not you."

At another time, I might have swelled with pride at that. But at the moment I'm too agitated by the fact that I'm being held prisoner and used for Goblin King bait. I try to stomp my foot in anger, but it's still stuck fast, and all I manage is a great big twitch over one side of my body. I want to scream in frustration.

Alma seems mildly amused by this, which just pisses me off more. She sips at her glass, which holds now more orchid than wine.

I will myself to calm. A temper will get me no where; I learned that a long time ago.

So what to do then? There's no way in hell I'm waiting around for King Tighty-Pants. And it's clear this woman is made from the same stuff as he, whatever that stuff is. Magic, I guess.

And me? I'm only human.

But that didn't stop me last time.

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AN: Well, hi there!

It's been a long time since I've written and shared fanfiction. _Long_ time. This story actually started off as a random drabble to keep myself occupied while I waited for someone. Then it sort of became... something else.

I hope this prologue encourages you to check back later for the real start of the story. I'd appreciate it if you'd leave a review to tell me what you think. :)

Also, no, I have no idea what possessed me to write in the first person. D: And, yes, the rest of the story will be from Sarah's viewpoint as well.

Again, please tell me what you think! :)


	2. Things Amiss

Many thanks to everyone who reviewed the prologue! We're rewinding a bit here; this chapter and the ones following take place BEFORE the prologue.

Hope you enjoy!

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_.Things Amiss._

A few months ago, I began attending my first year of university. It was exciting and a little strange at first, but never scary. I hadn't been scared of nearly anything in years, not since... well.

Of anything, the worst feeling I had to deal with was homesickness. I missed Toby especially; more than a few times I worried that he might forget about me while I was gone. He was about six years old now and definitely the most adorable thing I'd ever laid eyes on in my entire life. Where I once saw a snotty pink pile of a little human, I now perceived something glowing with the wonderful can-do-no-wrong energy of childhood.

Maybe it was my own imagination painting the world to please me, but I every time I looked at my little half brother I swore there was a touch of the Labyrinth on him, clinging to the air around him like a halo of static energy. Could magic rub off on a person? Toby had been in Jareth's powerful presence for hours, after all. Maybe whatever made the Goblin King so--I hated to admit it, but there was no way around it--so _magnificent_ and powerful could fall on others. Like fairy dust.

The idea didn't entirely please me—too much like catching magic cooties. But Toby never climbed up walls or across the ceiling ever again, so I tried not to worry. He was an ordinary boy and I had saved him from a terrible fate and the memory of it still made me feel warm inside. _That_ particular memory did, anyway--there were other mental souvenirs the Labyrinth had left me that weren't quite as happy, or even clear.

But that was all behind me. I enjoyed myself in college. I made friends, experimented with classes, even joined the Thespian Society--though I wasn't entertaining any serious notions of becoming an actress anymore. Anyway, I had fun. After a happy Thanksgiving weekend back at home, I returned to school and nearly killed myself studying for final exams.

My life was so normal, I wasn't sure if I ought to have felt ecstatic or mildly disappointed. Maybe there was both—but mostly the former. I'd had enough of out-of-the-ordinary to last me a _long_ time.

Winter break was a welcome reprieve. I took a train home and slept for most of the journey. In my dreams, fairies danced tribal-like around a candle, and I had a vague notion as to who sent them.

~*~

After climbing out of the taxi with my one heavy luggage bag, I nearly crushed Toby in a bear hug when he ran out to meet me in the driveway. He giggled and squirmed with simultaneous disgust and delight when I bombarded his apple cheeks with smooches.

Karen and Dad were waiting by the door with one big smile a piece. I hugged them each tightly while Merlin, who was starting to get up there in doggy years, circled us and barked excitedly.

It was good to be home. The house hadn't changed much during my semester away. I trudged up the old staircase and headed into my bedroom.

I'd never been afraid of the dark that invaded the room at night while I tried to sleep, even after the Labyrinth. When all the glitter and fantasy faded, I knew there was nothing here that could do me harm. Wise as I now knew it was to be cautious of shadows, I couldn't be afraid, not after what I'd been through. This was my bedroom and it was as good as my fortress. Had been for my entire life.

I couldn't know that it was going to change.

~*~

I noticed the noises the first night. Little whispers of sound and what I could swear was the soft flap and buzz of insect wings. But I was at the start of my vacation, a fresh and recovering victim of all-or-nothing college exams. I was not going to let noises bother me. They were too soft to be very disturbing, anyway, as unusual as they were, which allowed me to dismiss them as nothing but the wind against my window. The worry at the back of my mind was pushed aside and I fell asleep.

But when the noises continued to haunt the corners of my room the next night, louder, my suspicion come home full force. Quick as lighting I sat up in my bed, and the strange sounds immediately ceased. I remained like a statue, listening, for minutes afterward, but they didn't return. So I lied down to sleep again.

Barely a minute passed and I heard a faint whispery voice, tiny and incomprehensible in the darkness. There was a sound like scurrying feet in the walls. In a far corner of my room, a pair of tiny, glassy lights flashed, and in my mind they were animal eyes.

I jumped up again, and of course they disappeared.

My scalp itched with frustration and developing panic. Nearly five years of a normal life since that fateful night, when I was young and selfish and wished a baby away--five years of being a changed person, of letting go of childhood, and I return to this?

And what was this? This was goblin mischief. I was almost sure of it.

Almost an hour I sat there, in the darkness, listening. When nothing changed and my mind calmed enough for sleep to tug demandingly at me, I lied down again. This time, there were no noises and no eyes to bother me.

But there were fairies dancing through my dreams again. Little glowing bodies of greenish skin jumping around a fire, singing something low and throaty.

Somehow, it didn't seem Jareth's style.

~*~

My things started to go missing.

I thought nothing much of it at first, when I couldn't find my cheap wristwatch. Sometimes things just get lost, right? And when I couldn't find my old stuffed penguin on the usual shelf in my room, I figured Toby had pilfered it for his own playtime, which didn't bother me much. But no matter how I asked him, he insisted with childish outrage that he hadn't touched anything in my bedroom while I was away.

And then I couldn't find my make-up bag, which I was certain I had packed and brought with me. My make-up bag! I may not have been the type of girl who spent an hour in front of the mirror every morning or placed extreme importance on my daily appearance, but I still felt bereft without at least my eyeliner.

It was liquid eyeliner. Dark emerald green. Applied very smoothly and did not come cheaply.

Losing it made me very, very angry.

At this point my mind was making hesitant connections between this wave of missing items, the noises at night in my bedroom, and a certain incident I wasn't completely certain hadn't been a major hallucination back when I was fifteen. My fourth night home, I paced in my room and thought about it. About everything.

*

Since the night of my victory over a one Goblin King and the jubilant critter-filled party that followed, the Labyrinth had, literally speaking, ceased to exist for me. Looking out my window, I saw no red desert or distant castle--only a tree and the street. Goblins weren't hiding under my bed or in the shadows. All traces of my adventure disappeared like a dream.

It scared me after a few days. I started to realize Hoggle was not going to appear in my mirror, all grumpy and ready to argue with me, of his own accord. I began to suspect I really _had_ made up the whole thing in my mind, some dream I mistook for reality like a crazy hallucinating loony.

To assure myself I was not insane and it all really had happened--I _did_ solve a giant labyrinth, I _did_ make friends with an ogre (or yeti, or thing, or whatever Ludo was), I _did_ save my brother from a King--I sat in front of my vanity mirror exactly one week after the night that had started it all.

"Hoggle, I need you."

When he didn't appear immediately, I slumped in my chair. So that was it. I was crazy.

Then, to my relief and delight, a familiar dwarf suddenly popped into existence beside me. He was wearing his snarky expression, the one I now knew he used to hide happier emotions, lest he look like an optimist. "I was busy, ya know."

And I spent nearly the whole night talking to him, happy to know he was real and I wasn't a nut job--but mostly to know that he was real. I asked him about the Labyrinth. Had it changed while I was gone? How were Ludo and Sir Didymus? Were the Fireys still being weird?

I had avoided mentioning the Goblin King at first, but it turned out to be impossible. Besides, I was curious. As lightly as I could, I asked, "What happened to Jareth after I left?"

Hoggle shrugged from where he sat at the end of my bed, studying another plastic bracelet I'd left lying around. "Don't know, don't care. S'long as he don't bother me."

After a moment, he continued, "I, ah, heard from some goblin familiar that he went missen' one or two days, right after ya left. Makes sense, I gis, 'cause the Labyrinth was bein' strange too. Stranger than usual, ah mean. A lot stranger."

"What do you mean?" I prodded curiously.

"I couldn't walk no where without gettin' lost," he huffed. Hoggle had once claimed to have had no pride, but evidently he had been confident in his own ability to navigate the Labyrinth--at least, certain parts of the Labyrinth. Hadn't he been my guide, after all? "But it didn't last no more than a few days, and then it went back to bein' it's old normal strange. Anyway, they say Jareth jus' flew in through the castle window one day and went back to orderen' every body aroun'. Say he's been touchy and gotten' himself a temper. That'd be your fault, o course." He gave me a look bordering on approval.

I grinned back at him. "Your fault too, Mister Storm Through the Goblin City! I'm surprised he hasn't tried to kick you into the Bog of Eternal Stench."

A flicker of pale anxiety passed over his gnarled features. "Don't even say that! I've been tryen' to hide from him, ya know. In case he _does_ wanna kick me or kill me."

"_Has_ he tried to do anything to you?" I asked with sudden concern.

"Nope," he replied, looking surprised at his own answer.

"And he hasn't gone back to employing you for dirty work?"

"Nope."

I sat back and grinned again. "Well then, I guess he's finally learned not to mess with you!"

Hoggle gave me a look that tried to be withering, but it was too affected by his resurfacing concern. "I doubt that. I may have stormed Goblin City with ya," he said, his reasonable side sounding like he regretted it and his new side sounding proud, "But I'm guessen' Jareth still knows I only reach up to aroun' his knees. And he's got magic. And that's somethen' someone like me is nothen' against."

"You were ready to fight him when we ran into his castle, though," I pointed out.

Now he looked uncomfortable. He fussed with the bracelet with renewed interest and mumbled, "Yeah, well, I was with you and Ludo and Didymus and Didymus's shaggy mutt. And I didn't want ya fighten' Jareth all by yerself."

There was a spark of warmth in my chest as I heard those words. Because I knew it'd bother him and because I wanted to, I hugged him and squealed about what a good friend he was. He immediately fought me off and threatened that if I was _gonna be talken' silly nonsense like that_ then he was _jus' gonna get outta here right now_.

He did eventually leave, explaining that the link between the Aboveground and the Underground--my world and his world--wasn't strong enough to let him stay more than a few hours. Already he was beginning to go translucent around his fingers and feet. Though it almost hurt me to, I bid him goodbye and watched him disappear completely.

Since then, I summoned him a few more times. The visits were less and less frequent, and I began to move on to a life that was far removed from my adventure in the Labyrinth. We simply ran out of things to talk about between us. His presence in my room and in my reality began to seem out-of-place, and we both knew it.

By the next year, I wasn't summoning him at all anymore.

*

The memories were like a strong drink. Nostalgia hit me in waves, and I suddenly missed my old strange comrades with intensity.

And I remembered the Goblin King, now, too. I had not let myself think about him very much after my final encounter with him. His parting words had been too strange, something about him too simultaneously appalling and appealing.

With the distance of time, it was easier for me to muse upon him. But not by much. It was that damn ball in the dream bubble. That had confused the hell out of me while I was in it, getting twirled around by an intense-eyed, glittery King, and it still confused the hell out of me now.

So I ignored the dream bubble. Without that memory, the Goblin King swam up in my mind as an image of confident arrogance and tight pants. And he had set the cleaner on me, after reducing the amount of time I had to solve the Labyrinth. Jerk.

I thought I had gotten rid of him, though. He certainly hadn't contacted me since his defeat. So what was he doing sending goblins to make noises in the dark of my room and fairies to haunt my dreams? In an effort to find insight, I pulled open my vanity drawer and groped around for my book. The Book. The red one. You know which.

And, to my horror, it was not there.

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AN: Well, I'll tell you one thing--I love writing Hoggle. The dwarf just doesn't get enough love, and he's such a great character.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed the prologue. :) I'd like to ask an opinion on the length of this chapter: Is it too long? Would you prefer I divide future updates into shorter chapters, or do you want even longer chapters?

Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed their holidays, and may you have a Happy New Year too!

Liked this chapter? Hated it? Please let me know with a review. :)


	3. Conversations with the Goblin King

The first time I uploaded this chapter, it showed up all in italics. I have no idea why. So I apologize if this is showing up that way or with some other wonky format problems. I'm tying to fix it.

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_.Conversations with the Goblin King._

My book. My Labyrinth book. It was my last gift from my mother before she died and it was the thing that had started everything. After the Labyrinth, I had a notion that the thing might be magical itself, but it didn't thrum with the strange energy that crackled the air around the Goblin King or in the walls of his kingdom. So I'd decided it was just a book and put it away.

Nevertheless, it was dear to me. On the inside of the front cover was written in fancy red ink: _To my baby, Sarah. Love, mommy._

And now it was gone. I yanked drawers open and threw their contents over my shoulders in a desperate search. I looked under my bed, behind my desk, in my closet. When my room looked like it had been the sight of an explosion and still nothing turned up, I sought out Toby. He was playing in the living room.

"Toby," I said, careful to keep the hysteria out of my voice. "Did you take a book from my room?"

"I _told_ you, I didn't touch anything in your room," he pouted, not deeming me important enough to look up at and way from his action figures.

"Toby," I repeated, more firmly. "I need you to tell me the truth right now. I promise I won't be angry. I just need to know. Did you take my book?"

"No," he said again, finally looking at me. And I knew he wasn't lying.

I waited for the night to get late. From the looks I got at dinner, I could tell my family suspected something was up with me. I was being edgy. When my dad asked what was wrong, I lied and said that I was tired.

All through the meal, anger was boiling in my blood.

When everyone was asleep, I locked myself into my room. I stood before my vanity mirror, shining with moonlight.

"Hoggle, I need you."

The air around me shivered as if in surprise. A moment later, he was standing next to me, shorter than I remembered him.

He looked genuinely shocked to be there, and even more so to see me. Despite my foul mood, I felt a familiar warmth at the sight of him. I threw my arms around him, and he was so surprised that he actually hugged me back.

"Ya called!" he stated, as if to confirm this was real.

I pulled back and gave him a halfhearted smile. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Ya could say that."

I flicked on a lamp light and glanced back down at him. I wanted a moment to take him in—the bushy eyebrows, the big nose. More than the strange noises at night, more than even dreams about fairies, seeing Hoggle again reminded me of what exactly had happened to me so many years ago—and to be honest, it wasn't a bad feeling. I'd called for a reason, though. Fighting the smile that constantly threatened to worm itself onto my face, I tried for a serious voice and got straight to the point. "Your king is messing with me."

His already wrinkle-riddled brow furrowed even more with confusion. "Jareth?"

"He stole my watch, my doll, and my make-up," I said, remembering my anger quickly and clenching my fists. "Just to mess with me, because I know he's got plenty of make-up of his own. And then he stole my _book_. And that's the last straw, Hoggle, I swear! Why is he doing this, now of all times?"

He put a gnarled hand on my arm to still my growing agitation. "Wait, wait. Start from tha beginnin'. Jareth stole your make-up?"

I sat down on the floor so I could be eye-level with him. "Look, a few days ago I started having funny dreams. Fairies and stuff. And when I came home, I started hearing weird noises in my bedroom. Now, my stuff is going missing, including my book about the Labyrinth."

"'N ya think it's Jareth?"

"What else could it be but goblins?"

"Could be gremlins."

"_Hoggle_."

"What? Could be," he mumbled, before he put down his head in quiet thought. Then he looked up again and asked, "So what'dya call me for?"

"What do you mean, what did I call you for? You're my friend and you used to work for Jareth!"

"Still worken' for him."

Now it was my turn to be surprised. "What? He's got you doing his dirty work again?"

He was staring at the floor and avoiding my eyes, but I didn't think it was out of shame, and it bothered me. "Less dirty than before. Jus' errands, really."

I tried to understand why he was suddenly so distant. I touched his arm but he shrugged it off with a sigh. "I'd wondered what happened to ya," he admitted, "When ya never called."

It clicked, and my heart sunk with guilt. Years without a word between us, and the moment I see him again I'm grilling him with questions about the King.

"Oh, Hoggle, I didn't mean it like that," I said earnestly. "Life just got in the way. It's no excuse, but I just got so busy." I pulled him into another hug. "But I missed you, I really did!"

He patted my shoulder awkwardly and grumbled, "All right, all right," which I knew meant he had forgiven me. I drew back and smiled at his discomfort. He hadn't changed.

"'Nway," he huffed, businesslike. "What kinda noises is it ya said you've been hearen'?"

"Oh, you know. Little whispers in the dark, creaking walls. Like little people running around while I'm trying to sleep."

"Any laughen'?"

"No," I replied, and at the same moment I realized how strange that was. Giggling and snorting was rather characteristic of goblins, wasn't it? Ugly and weird as they were, they seemed to be evilly happy most of the time. Especially if they were up to no good.

Hoggle chewed on this and said finally, "Don't sound like Jareth's kinda thing to me."

"What are you saying? It _has_ to be him," I insisted.

He shrugged, "Didn't cha say you been dreamen' about fairies? Maybe it's fairy work. _Sounds_ like fairy work."

"Why would fairies be bothering me?"

For that he had no reply, so I pressed on, "Look, my life was one big line of normal and non-magical stuff until the Labyrinth. Jareth is the only powerful magic... thing... that I know and might have a grudge against me. And I know for a fact that he likes to mess with me," I added, remembering every annoying smirk he ever pointed my way. "As far as I'm concerned, he's my only suspect."

Unable to argue with the logic, he shrugged again. "Whatcha gonna do about it?"

I blinked and answered honestly, "I don't know."

He snorted.

"Well, I can't just summon him over for a chat can I?" I bristled. Then, more serious, "..._Can_ I?"

"How should I know?" he answered, sounding nervous at the mere prospect. "You could try, but _I_ wouldn't."

That didn't deter me; brave as he had become, I got the feeling there were a lot things Hoggle still wouldn't do unless he had to. As far as I was concerned, the strange things developing around me were a major magical problem in the making; one I planned to nip in the bud as soon as possible. I rocked back on my heels in thought. "How should I word it?" I wondered aloud. "Do I just say his name and 'Come here?'"

He flinched and cast a precautionary glance around my dim room. "Warn me before ya do anything serious, will ya?"

"Why? I thought you were on good terms again."

"Whatever terms I ever been on with Jareth, they ain't ever been _good_. We ain't friends. More like I exist and he tolerates it."

"Exactly." And then it struck me. The thought. The idea, the perfect idea. "Hoggle."

He eyed my expression of revelation with extreme apprehension. "What?"

"You should talk to him for me!"

"_What?_" he repeated incredulously.

"It's perfect!" I insisted, delighted at my own genius. "You're his servant or errand-dwarf or whatever, so you hang around him anyway. You can find out why he's bothering me all of a sudden!"

"Nu-uh! No way!" He shook his head fervently. "Why do ya think he'd tell _me_ anythen'?!"

"Because you won't ask him directly, silly! Strike up a casual conversation..."

"Ha! Now I know why you ain't talked to me in so long—you're crazy."

"...and worm it out of him. Come on, Hoggle!"

"How exactly ya expecten' me to do that?"

"I don't know, just talk to him! 'Hey, Jareth, what'cha been up to recently?' 'Oh, nothing much. Just bothering your friend Sarah!' 'How come?' 'Well, you see...'" I trailed off.

Hoggle stared at me.

"Oh, not _exactly_ like that," I snapped, "but you know what I mean!"

"What happened to _you_ talken' to him?" he countered desperately.

I frowned and tried not to look embarrassed. How could I tell him I didn't want to face the Goblin King again? Jareth had been a puzzle to me, growing in complexity as I progressed through the Labyrinth. At first I thought he was just a malicious Fay-thing, using the excuse of helping me out of my responsibilities as a sister to have some giggles at my expense, watching me fight through danger after danger. But by the end of everything, it seemed like his intentions had changed, to say the least.

"_Fear me, love me..._" Suddenly, it was me he wanted, not Toby. And that just set off a whole slew of confused emotions that included fright, delight, anger, and everything else under the sun.

Honestly, it was just something I did not want to deal with. And, knowing Jareth, even as little as I did, he'd make me deal with it.

"Hoggle," I implored. "_Please_, do this for me. I can't stand to think that he might be putting my family in danger again. I need to know for sure."

Now he looked uncomfortable, but of the kind that had resigned itself to the fact that it would have to remain uncomfortable for a while more. And then I knew he'd given in.

"All right," he mumbled miserably. "All right. But if I mess this up, you ain't allowed to be mad at me."

"Don't worry, Hoggle. It'll be fine," I assured him. "You just have to be subtle."

Thinking back on this, it must have been the sleep deprivation talking.

~*~

So he left, fading into nothing in that slightly disturbing manner, and I tried to fall asleep. Of course, the whole time he'd been in my room, whatever had been causing the strange noises the past few nights hadn't made a peep. Probably to spite me. If they made any noise after Hoggle left, I didn't hear them. I had stayed up so late into the night waiting for the household to be deep asleep, then talking with Hoggle, that when my head hit the pillow darkness soon followed, despite my apprehension of things to come.

I partly wished I had gone with Hoggle. Or at least been invisibly by his side, to see what occurred when he spoke with Jareth.

Sleep's darkness gave way to dream images, and there were the fairies again. Or, rather, just one

fairy, staring at me. She was a vague image in my mind, but I saw immediately that she wasn't like the fairies that hovered about the Labyrinth's outer walls. Actually, I got the impression that she was kind of mossy. Green. Whatever she was, she was very close and staring. I hoped she wouldn't bite my nose or anything.

I heard myself mumble, "You're pretty. But I don't want to see you, not now. I want to see Hoggle."

The image slipped into darkness again, and for a moment I had a notion it was my eyes drifting closed and this was no dream at all.

But then a voice I knew must belong to the fairy woman, if only because it sounded as beautiful and lulling as a flowing brook, murmured, "Well, all right. If you want. Just this once."

*

The darkness of sleep cleared into another dream. Only it was so clear, I thought for certain now that it couldn't be my own imaginings. This was real.

Still, it retained a dreamlike quality. I couldn't feel my physical body, but I could see all around me. Namely, I could see Hoggle.

From the high, grey stone walls of the hallway around him, I hazarded a guess that he was back in the castle beyond the Goblin City. He was pacing and muttering to himself. I strained to hear, and immediately his voice became magnified and clear in my mind.

"Don't know why I agree to these things," he huffed feverishly to himself. "Don't see her in who knows how long, calls me up, says hello, and tells me to weasel information outta Jareth. Me! Information outta Jareth! Soon as I mention her, he'll kick me out the window, I'm sure of it."

Suddenly I felt terribly guilty and ashamed. Everything he was saying was true. I doubted Jareth wanted to hear even my name. Not to brag, but I'd effectively kicked his royal arse nearly five years ago—and I was fifteen and he a grown man, mind you. If his pride wasn't still smarting from it, I'd be insulted.

Hoggle was wringing his hands now as he spoke to himself. "But what if she's right? What if he's doin' somethen' nasty again? I can't let 'im bother her. She can't go through that again. Ya gotta help your friends, Hoggle."

I wanted to laugh with delight and tell him what a sweet, strange thing he was, but I found I had no voice to use. So I continued to watch. Apparently, his last words had bolstered his nerve enough. He nodded to himself and suddenly went almost sprinting down the hallway, as if to outrun his second thoughts. My viewpoint, or eyes or whatever this was, followed him to the throne room.

I had been here only once before, when the chamber was empty. Well, it was anything _but_ empty now. The place was crawling with goblins—goblins sitting around that sort of shallow pit in the center, goblins hanging from the walls and ceiling, goblins chasing live chickens and other goblins around, goblins climbing in through the windows—goblins everywhere! The air was clouded with their chaotic din (and slightly offensive smell).

But the room was dominated by the great horned throne. The last and only time I'd seen it, it too had been empty. It certainly wasn't now.

For the first time in years, I looked upon Jareth the Goblin King again. The first thing that struck me was that he hadn't changed, not in appearance at least. He was still handsome, and not a day older. His clothes were of course all silk and leather, his hair still haphazard yet stylish. He was reclining across the wide throne in a lazy position that somehow managed to be kingly. To my surprise, he looked bored and distant, as though he'd tuned out the craziness surrounding him, and stared off into space.

Hoggle, poor Hoggle, had slowed his approach, partly to navigate around the erratic goblins, whom he very nearly had to shove and snarl at to get by, and partly because, I could see, his nerves and better judgment were getting hold of him again.

When he reached the throne, he coughed awkwardly, "Ah, 'scuse me, yer Highness."

Jareth blinked awake from whatever daydream he was in, and glanced down at his servant. His face registered disappointment and dislike. "What is it, Hobble?"

"Hoggle, sir," he corrected quietly, nervously, but with just a touch of familiar annoyance. "I, ah, had a question fer ya."

Now there was surprise in Jareth's face, but it faded to impatience. "Very well. Get on with it."

Hoggle hesitated, shuffling his feet and worrying his hands, and I felt immensely sorry for putting him through this. Jareth snapped, "I haven't got all day." Which I thought was nonsense, seeing as he was just sitting there. "Come, out with it."

Hoggle jumped and hurried on, "Ah, well, yer Highness, I was jus' wonderen' if ya knew of any strange stuff happenen' Aboveground."

_I told him subtle, right?_ I thought to myself in a cringing tone—if thoughts can have tones, which I think they can. _I'm pretty sure I specifically said "subtle." This is not subtle, Hoggle!_

I don't know what Jareth had been expecting, but it wasn't that. He frowned and cocked his head. "What are you talking about? What strange things Aboveground?"

Struggling for a moment with how to continue, Hoggle replied, "Well, things that shouldn't be happenen'. Like, say—say like the Underground messen' with the Aboveground."

If my body had accompanied me into this vision, I would have winced. He was walking on thin ice here. I didn't want Jareth to _know_ I'd sent Hoggle, especially if Jareth _was_ the one responsible for all the strange happenings lately.

As it was, Jareth's mismatched eyes narrowed slightly on his servant. "The Underground and Aboveground often cross paths. You know that very well, I dare say."

Hoggle went a shade paler, and his gaze anchored resolutely to the floor. "Well, I was jus' wonderen'--"

"Why this sudden curiosity?" Jareth interrupted, rising a little in his seat. "What do you care for what happens Aboveground?"

The goblin activity around the room quieted suddenly, and dozens of wide goblin eyes turned to stare at their king and the dwarf.

Hoggle was panicking now, I could see. "I care—I care 'cause I gots a friend up there--"

"A friend!" Jareth repeated, and his voice was like thunder as he rose to his feet. "A friend! What's this friend's name, Hoggle? Do tell!"

Suddenly, I realized what I horrible idea this had been. _Stupid, stupid, STUPID Sarah!_, I wanted to yell at myself. Why did I think this would work? Why did I think Hoggle could inquire into Jareth's relations with the Aboveground without mentioning me?

The goblins were riveted and silent as stone. Hoggle swallowed audibly.

"Her name's Sarah," he barely whispered. "You know that."

Jareth's face was white with rage, but his eyes looked strangely tired. With eerie calm, he spoke, "You dare mention that name in front of me?"

To everyone's surprise, he sat back down. The pale of his momentary fury was fading to a sort of gray weariness.

"Enough of your drivel, Hoggle," he said darkly. "Tell me why you're really here."

And all I could think was _Hoggle, don't you dare!_

Hoggle struggled with his thoughts for a few painful moments before finally blurting, "There's somethen' strange goin' on in her home, and I wanna know if you've got anythen' to do with it." I mentally groaned. Why hadn't I listened to Hoggle when he told me how unfit he was for this sort of thing?

Jareth was, again, surprised. Nevertheless, he answered immediately, "I have done nothing to that creature--" Creature?! "--since she left this place. What do you mean by something strange?"

Hoggle struggled to maintain control over the direction of the conversation. "Ah, well, are ya sure? 'Cause she seems to think--"

"You've spoken to her?" Jareth demanded sharply.

Hoggle winced and said nothing.

Jareth leaned forward and hissed threateningly, "Hoggle, you will tell me immediately and _exactly_ what is going on."

I despaired at the realization that Hoggle was giving in. "I don't know exactly," he replied wretchedly. "She's been hearen' strange noises at night. And she's got fairies in her dreams."

"And?"

"And thas' all she told me."

Jareth leaned back again, regarding Hoggle with an unreadable expression.

"And she thinks I have something to do with it," he assumed.

"I didn't say that," Hoggle replied valiantly, and I appreciated his desperate effort to at least conceal my part in this horrible idea of trying to sneak information out of the Goblin King. "I was the one what came here to ask yer Majesty."

Jareth made a sound that sounded like disapproval. Perhaps he saw through the lie. But as he was thinking on Hoggle's words, his eyes were clearing of their previous melancholy and brightening. As if a door that had been previously closed to him was opening again. It scared me a little.

"Well, if someone's bothering little Sarah, I suppose I'll have to look into it, won't I?" he asked no one in particular. Hoggle's leathery skin went pale.

And then, impossibly, I felt Jareth's strange eyes meet mine. And he smirked.

My vision went black.

*

I woke with a jolt, and sat up in my bed so fast my mind went spinning and I had to fall back against the pillow again. When the dizziness cleared, I sat up again and cast wary eyes around my room. My digital clock pulsed red numbers at me: three thirteen in the morning. I'd been asleep barely an hour.

With a certainty I could find no root for, I knew the dream-vision I'd broken out of had been no dream at all. A slow panic was fluttering in my chest as I waited, silently, for something to happen.

After a few dark minutes ticked by, I nearly shrieked when Hoggle appeared in a noiseless instant next to my bed. I swung my legs over the side to face him. He looked as anxious as I felt.

Without warning or pretense he started rambling, "This ain't my fault, all right? I _told_ you I ain't cut out for this sorta thing, I _told_ you it was a crazy idea, I _told_ you I'd mess it up. So this ain't my fault!"

"Hoggle," I whispered, trying to shush him for fear of waking up my family. "Hoggle, calm down!"

He thrust a gnarled hand at me, and I could see he was holding something. Something that looked suspiciously like a crystal ball.

"He wanted me to convince ya into summonen' him, but I told him no," he said earnestly, and I knew that was what had transpired in the few minutes between my waking and his arrival. "I told him I wasn't helpen' him with anythen' anymore."

I tried to smile at him, all the while regarding the crystal like a poisonous snake. "Thank you, Hoggle."

In a calmer, apologetic tone, he continued, "He sent this."

Hesitantly, I took the crystal from his hand. It magnified the dimming moonlight still creeping through my window until it glowed in my palm. A familiar, electric sensation ran through my finger tips at it's touch, a feeling I associated with magic.

I squinted at it, and its milky depths became vague silhouettes, clarifying by the second. I was only mildly surprised when Jareth's face was suddenly smiling at me from within its glass insides.

"Hello, Sarah."

I frowned, "What do you want?"

"Now, now," he chided in that infuriatingly arrogant and velvet voice. "We've missed each other for over fours years now. Surely I deserve a proper greeting, at least."

"You don't deserve anything after what you tried to pull back then," I snapped back.

His expression in the crystal clouded, then cleared.

"But it wasn't all that bad, was it, Sarah?" he asked, almost innocently (Such a charlatan; he was anything but innocent!). "I do believe you had your share of fun."

I ignored the truth in that, and repeated, "What do you want?"

"I heard you have a problem."

"Then you've also heard my theory about who's responsible."

He smiled devilishly. "Yes, I've heard that too." And in the next instant, he was frowning, mock-polite. "Quite frankly, I'm hurt. What would make you think I'm behind these fairy dreams of yours? Fairies aren't even under my jurisdiction."

"Who else _but_ you would it be?" I hissed, replaying the same argument I'd had with Hoggle. "This might seem weird to you, but you're the only magical King with a habit of bothering me that I know."

"I would hardly call it a habit," he replied, sounding genuinely insulted. Then, more cheerful, "Whether you believe me or not, precious, the fact is that I have nothing to do with whatever's going bump-in-the-night in your bedroom. But, if you'd like to call me over, I'd be happy to investigate."

My cheeks reddened at the nerve of him. "No way in hell."

"Are you sure? I really think you might need my help with this, Sarah." His voice suddenly took on a serious tone, and his eyes grabbed at mine, demanding my attention. "Your problems sound like they have roots in Underground magic. And that's not something a human should not take lightly, even a human like you. Think of your family, Sarah."

I swallowed audibly, some little crazy facet of my personality awed at his concern. Then I remembered this was probably all his fault anyway.

"I am never summoning you into my house again," I said firmly.

His seriousness melted away to his usual distant arrogance. "Well, if you should change your mind, you know how to get my attention. Merely remember to start with 'I wish.'" He arched a brow at me in mild disbelief. "Are you quite sure you don't want me to take care of it now, rather than later when you're desperate and begging?"

It was very, very difficult to keep my voice from straying into a snarl. My eyebrow, on the other hand, could not help giving an annoyed and protesting twitch. "The answer is still no, Jareth."

He gave an elegant shrug. "Your loss."

And just like that, the crystal in my hand popped like a bubble to become nothing but a falling cloud of glitter.

I stared at my empty palm, the sound of my own blood pulsing in my ears. The exchange could not have lasted more than five minutes, but it had left me with my heart in my throat. How did he manage to agitate me like that?

I suddenly remembered I wasn't alone, and turned blinking to Hoggle.

He blinked back before shrugging uneasily. "I told ya it wasn't a good idea. And now you've gone and gotten him interested. Not my fault."

I flopped back onto my bed and groaned.

* * *

~*~

*

AN: Sarah + Hoggle + reconnaissance = epic fail.

I don't really know what to think of this chapter, so I'd appreciate some feedback. Especially on Jareth—it's difficult for me to judge if I'm writing him accurately or not. :/

Next chapter we'll be getting some _real_ action...


	4. Spider Webs

AN: I apologize for the huge wait between this and the last update. I'll try to make sure that doesn't happen again. :)

*

~*~

* * *

_.Spider Webs._

The next morning dawned bright and annoying. Not that I was aware of it—after Hoggle had disappeared the night before, promising to keep an eye on Jareth (with us both knowing that Jareth would keep whatever he wanted damn well hidden, especially from Hoggle), I had, as far as I could remember, passed out. And, merciful lord, there wasn't a single dream or strange spy-hole vision to interrupt the black hole of sleep.

But there was Toby. My paradise of dreamless oblivion was ripped to shreds as my surroundings suddenly started bouncing around me, and I opened bleary eyes to see my blond little angel, still in his pajamas, jumping up and down on the foot of my bed.

"Sarah!" he squealed. "Sarah, wake up! Wake up! Wake up!"

I snarled like a hibernating bear in reply. Children were not cute this early in the morning. With one hand I reached over and groped at my bedside table until I found my clock. Seven in the morning. That meant I had gotten, what, three or four hours of sleep? I groaned with disgust.

Oblivious to the fact that I did not want to be conscious at this hour, Toby continued hopping around my bed. He sing-songed, "Sarah, wake up! Sarah, wake up!"

"Toby," I growled weakly. "Get out."

"But you have to get up!"

"No, I don't. Now get off my bed before I _kick_ you off."

That stopped him for a moment, before he continued with a triumphant, "You can't! I'll tell mommy and you'll be in trouble." And there he went, jumping again.

I glared at him, sleepiness dissipating and irritation replacing it. "Toby, I'm serious, get out!"

"But you have to come see!"

"See what?"

"The big spider web!"

"See _what?_" I groaned again. Nothing made sense at this hour.

"There's a big spider web in my room!" he exclaimed with glee, and in his excitement he jumped around even more. Two of my three pillows were now on the floor, and the third was on its way.

I ran a hand through the bird's nest that was my hair. "Toby, I have no idea what you're talking about, but if I come see this web, will you let me go back to sleep?"

"Yes!" As if to seal the deal, he bunny-hopped off of my bed and beamed at me. Okay, maybe he was kind of cute, even at seven in the morning.

"All right," I finally conceded. He gave a little whoop as I rolled tiredly off the bed and onto unsteady feet.

I followed him out into the hallway. The smell of coffee was wafting around; Karen must have been brewing some downstairs for my dad before he left to work. It woke me up a little, and my mind unwillingly started cranking into gear with little trivial thoughts, even as Toby led me into his bedroom: _What time does the mall open? I still have to get a Christmas gift for Karen. What does she like, anyway? Probably some big ugly jewelry. Or maybe..._

"Look!" Toby commanded, tugging at my hand and jarring me out of my thoughts.

I blinked around at his room, noting the dinosaur curtains and bedsheets. At first I couldn't find what he was talking about. Then something glinted in the corner, and I saw it.

The thing was massive, a giant tapestry of delicate sliver threads taking up almost half of a wall. The morning sun that was bleeding through a crack in the curtains was setting the thing on golden fire, and if it weren't for the fact that it was a freakishly huge spider web in my little brother's bedroom, I would have even gone so far as to call it beautiful.

"It's so cool!" Toby squealed.

I gaped, searching the thing for a giant poisonous spider. It would just figure, wouldn't it? But I could see nothing alive in the midst of those delicate silk threads. Thank god.

But how had this gotten here? Spiders can't weave something like that overnight!

"Toby," I snapped. "Why haven't you told Karen about this?"

He looked stricken. "Mommy doesn't like spiders. She'll get rid of it."

"Of course she will. You can't have a giant spider web in your room."

"Why not?"

I couldn't find a satisfactory answer to that, so I countered, "When did this get here?"

"This morning."

"You mean the spider did it in one night?" I wasn't really doubting him. Karen must check his room every day; surely she would have noticed it?

He nodded, and I stared at the giant web grimly.

"Toby, if this kind of thing ever happens again, you have to tell me right away, all right?"

He looked puzzled at my serious expression, but nodded all the same, so I relaxed minutely. Curiosity getting the better of me, I approached the silken structure and reached out a tentative hand. A single thread, soft as air, stuck to my finger, and a familiar tingle went racing up my arm. I pulled back as if burned. And I scowled.

Jareth had better have been telling the truth the night before. Because if I found out he was responsible for this, I was going to give him a serious piece of my mind. And possibly a kick in the shin. No magical creature, King or not, had any right to be building giant spider webs in my baby brother's bedroom in the middle of the night. Someone had just gone too far.

"Sarah," Toby said, jolting me out of my thoughts. His eyes were pleading. "Please don't tell mommy. She'll take it down."

With a sigh, I sat down on my knees next to him. "The spider web can't stay here, Toby. I think it's..." I searched for an appropriate word and failed. "...bad."

"Why is it bad?"

I bit my lower lip, staring at the section of webbing that I had touched. It had not torn like a delicate web in the garden, but only sagged a little. "It's magic. But not good magic. Bad magic."

His baby blues went wide with fascination. I could tell he wanted to keep it, maybe even more than before, but after making a scrunched up face he nodded in defeat.

I hugged him. "I'm sorry. Tell you what, we'll take a picture of it before we take it down, okay? And we won't tell Karen. I'll clean it and make sure I don't kill any spiders. I'll put them outside."

This cheered him up considerably, and I went to fetch my little Polaroid. The things I do for family.

We took several photos of the shining mystery. Then I sent Toby off to breakfast and found a broom. I attacked the web with it, wrapping the threads like cotton candy around the dusty bristles until the whole thing had unstuck from the walls. As discreetly as possible, I took the broom downstairs and beat it clean against the backyard porch.

Karen caught me. "What are you doing?"

Nearly jumping out of my skin, I spun around and blinked at her. "Cleaning."

"So early in the morning?" she prodded, eying my pajamas.

"Yes."

Caught between pleasant surprise and suspicion, she decided not to comment. "Well, breakfast is ready. Come and eat." She disappeared back into the house.

I gave a small sigh of relief.

_Hoot hoot!_ The sound sent the hairs on the back of neck bristling like a cat. I whipped my head up to glare at our old acorn tree. Surprise surprise, there was a white owl staring back at me, looking very smug.

I narrowed my eyes, unsure if I was imagining the expression. "Are you who I think you are?"

The owl ruffled its feathers.

"Well, if you are, you can beat it," I huffed. "I already told you I don't want your help. So scram!"

It was at that moment I noticed my neighbor, an elderly man, peeking over our fence to blink at me. I reddened and, giving the owl one last meaningful glare, stomped back into the house.

~*~

"Sarah," Karen called to me in the afternoon. "Your father and I were wondering if you could look after Toby this evening? We're going to the cinema."

I paused in my t.v. channel surfing to think. To my disappointment, I realized I had made no plans for the night. "Sure."

"Oh, thank you, dear. I'll leave money for pizza."

Sweet.

~*~

They left soon after the sun set. Toby and I vegged out on the living room sofa, stuffed ourselves with pizza, and watched some Disney movie until he got restless.

"Let's play something," he commanded suddenly.

I frowned. "But this is the best part!"

"I've seen this movie. I wanna play."

Knowing there was no arguing with him, and knowing I'd seen the movie plenty of times myself, I gave in. "What do you want to play?"

He made his scrunched-up thinking face for a while. For such a long while, in fact, that I thought I'd actually get to see the rest of the movie before he finished deciding. Then, "Cards."

I groaned, "Those are up in my bedroom."

Immediately he jumped up off the couch. "Let's play up there!" And before I could get another word in, he went running up the stairs.

I sighed as I followed him, "Wish I had your energy."

It turned out I couldn't remember where exactly I had left my deck of playing cards. When none of my drawers yielded them up, I started scrounging around under my bed, wondering if the cards too had been spirited away by goblins (or gremlins or fairies or whatever had decided to annoy me as of late). Toby sat on the bed, swinging his legs patiently.

After a few minutes of me finding nothing but dust bunnies and grumbling to myself, he surprised me with a new request. "Sarah, tell me a story."

I crawled back out and sat up to look at him, nearly hitting my head on the mattress. "Didn't you want to play cards?"

"You can't find them."

This was true. I hopped up and sat down on the bed next to him. "What kind of story do you want to hear?"

"One of the fairy stories you used to tell me," he replied, making himself comfortable against my pillows. I was surprised he remembered. For about a year after he'd turned three, I'd made a habit of spinning fairy tales out loud for Toby to sleep to. Remembering made me smile.

"All right," I agreed, nudging him over so I could lie back against the pillows as well. When I was comfortable and he had tucked himself beside me, I started vaguely, inevitably, "Once upon a time..."

I let the words hang in the air, giving me a chance to muse. My mind swam with a million jumping-off points, streams of words running together in tangled webs of possibility. Recent circumstances had left a fresh mark, and I decided inspiration was not to be ignored.

"Once upon a time, there was a little green fairy..."

~*~

As I usually did, I got lost in my own words. The story spilled from my lips, stronger and brighter, until it was practically a living being all its own, born from my voice. It wasn't until the lights went out that I snapped out of it.

I froze, staring blindly through the darkness. Then, quieter than I intended, I whispered, "Toby?"

No response. There was a horrible feeling like deja vu in my stomach. I peered down at him, and the moonlight threw enough light for me to make out his face. He'd fallen asleep. A sigh of relief escaped me.

I was reluctant to leave him, even for a second, but I wanted a flashlight. Careful not to wake him, I slipped off the bed and went groping through the darkness to my doorway.

Apparently, all the power in the house was out. I cursed and made slow progress down the stairs, intent on getting the one flashlight I knew of in the kitchen. Halfway down, there was a tremendous thumping sound above me. Breath hitching, I spun around and stared blindly into the darkness upstairs. "Toby?"

When there was no reply, I made a strangled noise of panic and went scrambling back up the steps, each one punctuated by a plea under my breath: "_Oh, please no!_"

The sight which met me back in my bedroom felt like a punch to my stomach.

Monstrous glittering webs, like the empty one in Toby's bedroom that morning, had blossomed and spread like plague across the room in the sparse minutes I'd been gone. Only this time, they weren't empty at all, but alive with flickering and unnerving movement and sound. It was like stepping into a nightmare cave.

"Toby!" I cried despairingly, trying to see past the curtains of webbing. In trying to see through them, I perceived their contents—what exactly was so alive within them. Little creatures, too strange to exist outside of dreams, stared back at me with eyes like jewels or oily scarabs. They were strange crosses between tiny people and something much more insect; not quite what I imagined as fairies, and certainly not the kind I had seen outside the Labyrinth. Their skin was smotched green or brown, their limbs like feelers or spiked like a cricket's.

They chattered at me with pointed teeth, and flapped their translucent insect wings, but made no move at me otherwise, only crawled and climbed around and through the webbing. Looking at them made my skin itch with unease.

Desperate to get to my brother, who I couldn't see through all the insect gossamer, I looked around for something to sweep away the webbing from my path. Where the hell had that broom gone?!

The clicking and chattering quieted some as a single voice, soft as lullaby song, reached my ears. "Mortal Sarah, we have your brother."

I froze, staring hard into the webs, wondering which of the ugly little critters had spoken. It was no use; whoever was speaking was situated near my bed, where I'd left Toby, and hidden behind hundreds of layers of spider's thread.

"Who are you and what do you want?" I growled. In my right hand, I grabbed Toby's small baseball bat. It was mostly rubber and plastic, but it would have to do. A hundred beady eyes watched my face and my hands.

"We've come to collect you, mortal Sarah." The speaker was female, of that I was almost sure.

"Then why do you have my brother?"

"Only to make sure you'll cooperate. We will not harm him."

_Blackmail, huh?_ I gripped the baseball bat until it hurt. And then I swung.

A thousand little shrieks met my ears as the swing connected with the nearest web. It was thick, but still no match, and tore down as easily as expected. What I _wasn't_ expecting was for a dozen little green-bodied insect people to come flying at me.

They swarmed, and I swung screaming at them, panic fueling my ferocity. Fast as lightning, they darted circles around me before I could manage a single hit. All I saw were flashes of eyes and sharp little teeth. As one, they grabbed at the baseball bat. One of them bit at my fingers and I yelped, letting go. Their wings buzzing crazily, they darted off between the curtains of webbing, carrying the bat off with them like a prisoner of war.

"That was not smart, mortal Sarah," the smooth voice cooed. "We don't want to hurt you."

I snarled. "Fuck you!"

Hell if some spider webs were going to keep me from my brother. I didn't need a weapon. Swinging my arms before me, I walked right through my obstacles.

They were sticky and felt disgusting against my skin, but I paid no mind, not even to the demented chattering and squeaking that erupted from the terrible little creatures creeping through the webs I tore aside. Some of them tried to cling at me and stop me. After a few good swings of my hand, though, they were mostly scrambling to get out of my way.

"Mortal Sarah, stop!" She sounded nervous now, this mystery voice. I could make out my bed through the few layers of silk left before me. My adrenaline only jumped and I tore through them.

Toby lie on the bed, untouched and inexplicably still asleep. By his ear sat a little green fairy woman, her quartz eyes flashing with panic.

I dove at her, but she leaped like a cricket and flew off into the air. I turned instead to Toby and shook him. "Toby, wake up!"

When he didn't move, I tried again. "Toby?" I shook him harder. "Toby, wake up!"

"It's no use," the fairy said, crouched on one of the blades of my ceiling fan like some horrible little gargoyle. "He is under our enchantment. He won't wake up. You must cooperate!"

I tried my best to ignore her and rouse Toby, but despair was beginning to color my thoughts as he continued to lie motionless. I didn't want to give up, not to a swarm of fairy things, not without knowing why such stupid,_ stupid_ magic things always had to happen to _me_.

I turned, finding the host of insect people clinging to the remains of their ravaged webs and staring at me. Fighting hot, angry tears, I demanded coldly, "What, exactly, do you want?"

It was the tiny green woman sitting on my fan who answered me again. "Lady Alma demands your presence. We're collecting you."

I had no idea who the hell that was, nor did I care. All I knew was that these little monsters had invaded my home, were threatening my family, and intent on abducting me. I was beginning to hate the general Underground populace with a passion.

"Mortal Sarah," she continued, eyes bright and large in the gloom. "We'll do what we must. If you refuse to come, we will not be so kind to your family. Please, think of them."

I bowed my head and gathered Toby to me, drawing comfort from his soft hair against my cheek. I was ashamed of what I was about to do.

My voice was low. "I wish the Goblin King would come here _right now._"

I winced as a violent, piercing shriek went up amongst the fairy things and they all took to the air in a fluttering panic. The little green woman on my fan widened her eyes until they looked like a pair of shining, terrified saucers. More to the air than to me, she yelled a very worried, "Oh, no no no!"

"_Oh, yes,_" replied Jareth's deep voice in my ear.

I ducked on instinct and shielded Toby from the sudden wind, born of nothing, that went flying through the room, scattering the insect people like leaves. And when it died, I felt an entirely too familiar presence standing beside me. Magic buzzed in the air and I felt almost drunk on it as I lifted my head up to look at the man I was afraid to see—if only because I was positive he'd smirk in my face and say it: _I told you so._

But Jareth wasn't even looking at me. His eyes were roving over the mess that had once been my bedroom. "Hmm," was all he said, but it was enough to communicate extreme displeasure. To be in his presence again was both horrifying and thrilling. I was ignited with the simultaneous urges to touch his arm and to chase him away with a broom. And anyway he was standing much too close and getting glitter all over my bedsheets (not that a little more sparkling dust made much of a difference at this point).

"Which of you foul little things is the leader of this swarm?" he demanded of the fairy critters, most of which were now retreating through the windows or the door in a panic. I went cold at the thought of them flying around the rest of my house. I nearly screeched, "Don't talk to them, just get rid of them!"

He glanced at me finally. With a disapproving _tsk,_ he snapped his fingers.

The world suddenly went very, very hazy. My head swam with vertigo and I struggled to breathe. After a moment the feeling passed, and the smoky glitter that had seemed to smear my vision cleared. I blinked and looked around me.

As if on cue, the lights sprang back to life. I squinted through the sudden brightness. To my utter shock, I realized that my room was clean, in order, and absolutely magical creature-free. Well, except for Jareth of course.

Toby stirred in my arms. My breath hitched as I returned my gaze to him, watched him blink open his eyes.

"I fell asleep," he mumbled unnecessarily.

I heard the sound of fabric shifting behind me, and by entire body went rigid. Toby was awake and Jareth was still in the room. Oh, crap. "It's okay, Toby, go back to sleep," I whispered, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice.

And then quite suddenly Jareth took three strides and was standing right beside us, blatantly in Toby's line of vision. I jerked around and glared open-mouthed at him. Toby was rapidly blinking the remaining sleep from his eyes.

Jareth grinned. "Hello, Toby." He reached a hand down to brush my brothers forehead. "And goodnight."

Toby stared in wonder a second longer before his eyes fluttered closed and his expression became serene again.

I was at a loss. My scalp itched with frustration as I carefully lay him down and then spun on Jareth again. "I just spent tears trying to get him _out_ of enchanted sleep, I didn't want you to put him back in it! Couldn't you have just disappeared?!"

"Ungrateful as always," he chided lightly. He was standing imperiously over me, which I didn't like, so I quickly scrambled to my feet. He still had a good few inches on me, but I felt better. I glared up at him.

Finally, I bit out, "Thank you. Happy? Now please un-enchant my brother."

He was smirking again, and it made my cheeks burn. Sobering slightly, he replied, "It's hardly an enchantment, certainly nothing like what the forest sprites put upon him. He'll wake of his own accord in a few hours. You needn't worry."

"How reassuring," I said dryly. Then, cocking my head slightly, "Forest sprites?"

"The little monsters invading your home, which I so kindly sent spiraling back through whatever portal they used to arrive here," he answered, eyes still on me. Since they'd landed on my face they hadn't moved the entire time we spoke. "I would have liked to have spoken with them, but you seemed eager to see them leave."

It's a strange feeling, wanting to smirk and scowl at the same time. "You could say that."

"I don't suppose they told you why they put your brother under an enchantment, or why they were attempting to build a hive in your bedroom?"

I frowned and glanced worriedly to Toby, sound asleep on the bed behind me. "One of them said they were here to 'collect' me. They said someone named Lady Alma sent them."

When he made no reply, I looked back up at Jareth. His expression had gone slightly slack, save for his brow which knitted with something like confusion or unease. "Lady Alma," he repeated, almost questioningly.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Friend of yours?" I inquired quizzically.

"Hardly." I could read no further meaning into the statement or his face now. He had gone back to smirking at me, although it was a little more kindly than before. In fact, the expression almost looked affectionate.

I'm very sure that my brain experienced some sort of malfunction at this point, because it was suddenly very hard for me to meet his gaze. I ducked my head slightly and stammered, "Uh, listen. Thank you for helping me out. I appreciate it." Oh great. When had _this_ happened? Weren't we ancient enemies or something? Now here he was saving me from stuff (forest sprites, of all stupid things) and I was thanking him for it.

Quicker than I could see, his hand caught mine. He purred, "Don't thank me just yet, Precious."

I tried to snatch my hand away, but all at once the world around me was getting fuzzy again. Wobbling on my feet, trying to blink away the encroaching darkness in my mind, I groaned.

The last words out of my mouth before I fell into black sleep were low and weak, but nevertheless pissed as all get-out. "_What are you doing _now_, you prick...?_"

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AN: Please remember to leave a review! I appreciate any and all comments on what you think about the story or how it can improve. :)


	5. The Gilded Prison

A/N: Hello! So sorry or the wait for this chapter. And a HUGE thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. You're all very kind and encouraging; I really appreciate it! ^_^

Enough out of me. Here's the next chapter. :3

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_.The Gilded Prison._

My eyes shot open and took in the sparkling ceiling, all alight with soothing paintings of tree canopies and blue skies. And I panicked.

I had never woken up not knowing where I was before. In the split second it took me to sit straight up, my mind instant-replayed what I last remembered: _Forest sprites. Toby asleep. Jareth._

Jareth! He had grabbed my hand and then... and then what?

Slowly, I perceived my surroundings. A large room with orange-gold walls and a fancy, frilly vanity at one end. And a bed. A huge, fluffy bed.

I was sitting on it.

My mind jumped to the worst conclusions. I tore the blankets away from myself and did a quick and thorough check of my clothing. Everything was in place and apparently not tampered with. I was even wearing my house slippers. _Good._ I let out a terrific sigh of relief.

"You were unconscious. It would have been a waste."

I scrambled off of the bed so fast, my feet tangled with the thick blankets and I landed in a heap on the floor. An amused chuckle snaked its way through the air and I scowled, trying not to blush, as I got myself in order and stood. There was Jareth, leaning in the gold-framed doorway. Of course.

"Where am I?" I demanded warily.

"My castle," he replied, looking very pleased with himself.

I made a face as I took a quick look the room again. "I don't remember your castle being this nice." Okay, it was a snarky thing to say. But the man had kidnapped me. And it was true, besides. Wasn't Goblin City's castle all stone gray?

"I thought I'd arrange something more to your liking," he replied, almost offhand, as if it had only taken a minute. Having seen some of the strange things he was capable of, I suspected that this was exactly the case.

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked, fury and, I'll admit, some fear growing inside of me. Though he'd never hurt me directly before (Not that he didn't try with that damn cleaner.), the fact remained that I wasn't sure how well I knew the Goblin King. So I stood where I was and kept the bed between us, as a slight precaution. "When I summoned you, I only asked you to get rid of the forest sprites. I never said anything about bringing me here."

He looked at me seriously now, his eyes assertive, and I was reminded of the first time I had encountered him—when he had warned me imperiously, _Don't defy me!_ Goosebumps broke out on my arms but I matched his gaze with my own.

"You wished me into your home," he stated firmly, "And that was all. Your plea included no other instructions. I banished those creatures from your world as a kindness, not because I was bound to. I returned your home to order, released your brother from forest enchantment, and have returned to my own kingdom. I could have very well remained in the Aboveground and done what I pleased there, let loose as I was by your wish. Any other Fay would have run amok with such power. You should be grateful."

I gaped at him, at his self-absorbed logic. "Grateful?" I repeated, aghast. "_Grateful?_ You've kidnapped me!"

He was examining a crease in his leather glove. How did he manage to look regal even when doing stupid little things like that? "Out of concern for you," he said casually.

I crossed my arms over my chest and, tying very hard to control the sarcasm in my voice, replied, "Oh, really? It looks a little different from this end. Care to elaborate?"

He gave me a quick, dry look, but surprised me with a response. "Those sprites were after you, precious. Your brother became a target only so they could get to _you_. With you gone from the house, the forest sprites won't bother returning to bother your family. And you are much safer here under my guard than anywhere else."

None of the statements he uttered were anything like the answer I had been expecting, and I felt my heart jump a little, caught somewhere between relief and distress. "Why would you want to keep me safe? I thought we were," I searched for the proper terminology, "On opposing teams, or something. I defeated you."

Immediately after the words left my mouth, I regretted having reminded him of our past encounter. Rather than the malicious or angry expression I was anticipating, however, he only gave me a tired, slightly annoyed half-smirk. "This is a different game, precious." And his expression softened.

Oh, no. He was giving me that pseudo-affectionate look again. And my hormones were responding by blasting my heart beat into a frenzied alarm. Why did he have to be nice? I couldn't trust him when he was being nice, even if I wanted to. Nice Jareth tried to help me by doing things like kidnapping my annoying baby brother and trapping me in a happy, sparkling dream bubble. And now nice Jareth had kidnapped me.

The thought shook me out of my reverie. "The fact remains that you've abducted me! You took me without asking. Let me go back home!"

In an instant he was scowling. "Ungrateful child. I'm letting you stay in my home while I uncover why exactly Lady Alma is after you. You'll stay here until I've done so."

He intended to sound final, but I wasn't so easily put down. I marched around the bed, throwing caution to the wind, and approached until I was glaring straight into his face, barely a few inches between us. "You can't keep me here."

Slowly, his frown faded into a confident smile. My blood ran cold.

"But darling, I can."

He made a gesture with his hand to the space between us, and I blinked down at something I hadn't noticed before. There was a gold thread, thin as human hair, strung from one side of the door frame to the other. It reminded me of some ludicrous little barricade, keeping the riffraff from entering some posh party.

"What's this supposed to be?" I asked with as much unconcerned contempt as I could muster. This turned out to be more difficult than expected, because I already knew he was up to something clever and my mind was abuzz with trying to figure it out. I plucked at the thread. It seemed harmless enough.

"Standard Fay magic," he explained. Which really explained nothing. "Something to keep the riffraff inside and out of harm's way."

I bristled, and batted my hand at the thread in an attempt to tear it down. It didn't budge.

My brow knotted with confusion, and I closed my hand around the puny thread and tugged. Nothing gave. I tugged harder. No results. Meanwhile, Jareth was looking very pleased with himself. I muttered something angry and inappropriate under my breath. He chuckled.

"I'm afraid your efforts are wasted."

"Don't be ridiculous," I huffed, trying to hide my slow panic. "I'll go under it."

Gentleman that he was (ha!), he stepped back aways, allowing me some space. I crouched down and attempted to go under the little barricade. I blinked, and was confounded to find the thread strung right at my eye level. I crouched lower. It was still in my way. Too wrapped up in the predicament to care what I looked like, I dropped to hands and knees and attempted to crawl under. The little thread followed me, hanging just above my nose.

"What the hell!" I cried, and clasped my hand tightly over the offensive golden strand. I clambered up to crouch on my heels, making sure I was holding onto the thread so that it wouldn't budge. I attempted to climb over it.

"I have to admit," I heard Jareth say somewhere above me. I refused to look at him. "You are _very_ amusing to watch sometimes." I imagined what I must look like, sprawling around in odd angles, and tried not to blush.

Swallowing my pride, I attempted to swing a leg over to the other side of the doorway. Inexplicably, my arm was in the way. The thread I'd been holding had risen to block me without my noticing. I muffled a scream of frustration and shot up to my feet. The golden thread hung at its original place, level with my midriff, innocent as a string of cotton.

I glared at it, then glared at the Goblin King, took in his hugely annoying smirk, and quickly turned my back on them all. I felt hot tears prickling at the back of my eyes and hated myself for them.

Silent seconds ticked by, during which I smoldered and I imagined Jareth having a gay old oh-so-amused time behind me at my expense. When he broke the silence, however, I was surprised by his tone. It was almost gentle.

It made me sick.

"It's Fay magic, a seal that can't be broken. It would be best if you just waited in here until I returned. You'll be safe here." When I didn't comment back, he continued, "The goblins are under command to bring you anything you might need. If you desire food or drink, only ask."

"I've learned not to eat the food here," I replied thickly, still refusing to face him.

I felt the air shift behind me and my entire body went rigid. Magic buzzed around me, and I more sensed than felt a hand lift and comb through a single lock of my hair. It wasn't surprising that he could get around the barricade spell as easily as he pleased. Nothing in life, Aboveground or Under, is fair.

"I'm going to see what this is all about, Sarah. I won't allow Lady Alma to lay a hand on you."

"Because the only one allowed to possess me is _you_?" I snapped before I could stop myself.

The silence which followed put my hair on end. I'd done it now. He was going to throw me in an oubliette, I was sure of it. Lady Alma would never find me there. Nor would anyone else ever again. I swallowed audibly.

In desperation, I added in a whisper, "_You have no power over me._"

More silence. Then, in a matching whisper, "_Different game, different rules._" His tone was ice. "Make yourself comfortable while I'm away."

And quite suddenly I felt that his presence was gone from behind me. I spun around. I was alone in the big golden bedroom. My big golden cage.

The thread hung, winking, in the doorway.

*

I spent the next hour redoubling my efforts against the dreadful magic string-barricade. The thing was strong as rope and shifty as a dream. When I examined the door frame, I couldn't find any knots where it had been tied—it disappeared straight into the gilded walls like a solid ghost. Always, whether I tried slipping under it or diving over it, the string managed to leap right into my way and block me as effectively as a brick wall. After several dozen attempts to escape, I was beginning to go a little crazy. I threw myself onto the fluffy bed and screamed into an overstuffed pillow.

Having spent that little fit of passion, I sat up and thought. I thought hard.

I went to the vanity and pulled open all of the drawers. They were all empty, save for one which contained a fancy crystal perfume bottle. Even in the middle of my predicament, I was curious. I spritzed some of the scent onto my wrists and sniffed.

Peach blossoms. Bastard.

There was nothing else of interest in the room, and my anger began to fade to depression. This was quite a mess I'd gotten myself into. Served me right for being dumb enough to summon a Goblin King into my home _a second time_. He never did answer my question of why he was "helping me." Probably he just wanted an excuse to lock me up in his castle. What a creep. I kicked the vanity chair and pretended it was his shin.

"'Scuse me!" piped something very high-pitched.

I spun around. Two goblins were standing in the doorway, on the other side of the string.

Uncertainly, I replied, "Um, hello."

"The King said Screechy n' Gumbo suppose to sees Lady Sarah in the pretty room," explained the little catty one. "Said we's should get Lady Sarah some yummy food or drink if she asks us."

"Lady Sarah should eat now," the squat one with a horned hat added helpfully. "'Cause Gumbo and the other goblinses was gonna eat all the foods."

"Oh," I nodded. Cocking my head to one side, I guessed, "Are you Gumbo?"

"Yes!" the squat one grinned, flashing crooked square teeth, delighted I had guessed his identity. He was cute, in a very ugly sort of way.

The other goblin, Screechy, tapped his twiggy fingers together and twitched his large ears. "What would Lady Sarah likes Screetchy and Gumbo to fetch her? Some fishy? Some crusty bread? Moldy wine?"

"Err," I winced. "No, thank you, I'm not really hungry. But..." I came up to the doorway and crouched down to their level, the enchanted thread lengthening to hang between us. "Can I ask you to bring me something else?"

"Anything!" they piped in unison.

I smiled brightly at their enthusiasm. I never knew goblins could be so friendly! "Do you know a dwarf named Hoggle?"

Screechy and Gumbo glanced at each other, and then back at me. "Yes," squeaked Screechy.

"Can you bring him here? I'd like to talk to him."

Screechy shook his head, making his ears flap. "Nope. Can't. The King took the nasty dwarf with him. Mean old Hoggle is gone from the Labyrinth." He sounded rather pleased about it, and I realized that the animosity Hoggle felt for the goblins was mutual.

I frowned in disappointment. Jareth had made sure to take my greatest ally with him, away from possibly helping me escape. It figured. "Well, what about Ludo? Or Sir Didymus? Is it possible I could see either of them?"

Gumbo gave me a blank, glazed look. Screechy twitched his whiskers. "Sir Whaty-What?"

"Yeah, I didn't think so," I mumbled, more to myself than to them. My old friends had probably gone off to other parts of the Labyrinth, away from the castle. Anyway, as much as I loved them, I didn't think the gentle but slow monster or the overenthusiastic knight would have been much help in my predicament. Hoggle was more familiar with Jareth's tricks than either of them.

I blinked up at the goblins, struck with a sudden idea. "Um. Screechy, Gumbo, do you think you could help me another way?" When they blinked back expectantly, I went on, "You see, I'm not really supposed to be here. Jareth trapped me in this room using this thread, see?"

I tapped the string. As if noticing it for the first time, both goblins made noises of intense interest and nodded. Gumbo fingered the thread curiously.

My tone was of the kind I sometimes used with Toby—slightly slow, very clear, hoping I was being understood. "It's a magic thread. I can't break it, get under it, or get over it. Do either of you know how I can break it?"

Gumbo looked up at me and made a funny face. "Why does Lady Sarah wanna break the pretty string?"

"Because I want to go home," I replied, trying to be patient. "Jareth took me from my home without my permission. I have to escape--"

"_LA LA LA!_"

Screechy suddenly, well, _screeched_, causing both me and Gumbo to fall back on our behinds. The catty goblin had both of his index fingers stuck into his ears and was singing at the top of his lungs. It sounded like an animal singing its way to the afterlife while being run over by a truck full of nails.

"What are you doing?!" I yelled, trying to be heard over the noise as my own hands flew to cover my ears.

Thankfully, Screechy paused in his death song to answer. "King Jareth _said_. He said if Lady Sarah says anything about escapering, Screechy and Gumbo should just put their fingers in their ears and sing and walk away. Right, Gumbo?"

Gumbo took a moment to search his memory, before lighting up with recognition. "Right!"

He smiled dumbly at Screechy, who snapped, "Well, what are you waiting for, silly-sticks? Get to singing!" Gumbo gave a hop of attention and stuck his stubby fingers into his ears. And then both goblins were singing, off-tune and unharmonized. They spun on their heels and began walking away, down the stone hallway which contrasted so sharply with my own glittering cell.

"Hey, wait!" I called after them. Like the desperate prisoner I was, I leaned as far out of the door frame as the spell would allow and held a hand to their retreating figured beseechingly. "Please, come back! Hello?! Please?! _Come back and help me, you stupid goblins!!_"

*

When I was finished cursing every goblin and Goblin King in existence, I concentrated on the vanity mirror.

The one Jareth had created was much more regal and exquisite than the simple, girlish mirror waiting for me back home. Even in my high school years, when I had strung it with beads and pictures of movie stars, my vanity mirror hadn't been very impressive, but it did its job. This one, on the other hand, went above and beyond. It was actually three mirrors, angled to give a princess or a queen a better view of herself from many sides. I fingered the frame, which I half suspected was made of gold. Despite how luxurious everything else about the mirror was, the frame had been engraved into images of sprawling ivy, roses... and little goblins. Goblins and fairies. They stared with sightless eyes into the mirrors, giggling at my reflections.

Sometimes the Labryinth both amused and unsettled.

I sat down on the lacy stool and, ignoring the sneering golden creatures, spoke to the central mirror. "Hoggle, I need you."

Nothing. I tried again, "Hoggle, please. I need you."

Still nothing. "Hoggle, seriously, I'm in kind of deep this time. I really need your help!"

Wherever Jareth had taken Hoggle, it seemed to be a place where he could not hear my summon. I sighed with frustration. "Okay. Ludo? Ludo, I need you. Can you hear me, Ludo?" Silence. "I need you, Sir Didymus. Ambrosious? Can _anybody_ hear me?!" I struggled to keep my volume under control.

My own reflection stared desperately back at me. I slumped down and pillowed my head in my arms on the vanity in defeat. In my mind I imagined the goblins and fairies around the mirror laughing at me.

"All right, what do you want?"

I snapped back up into a proper sitting position and stared wide-eyed at the mirror. Next to my reflection there stood some kind of strange looking man. Prior experience told me not to bother, but I cast a quick glance over my shoulder anyway. The room was empty except for myself.

I looked back at the mirror when the man barked. "Well, weren't you the one wailing for help?"

I wasn't entirely sure if he was human, but I guessed not. He was petite in stature, with a trim and short silver beard but no other hair, despite his rather young features. His nose was small and pink and continuously twitched; it reminded me slightly of a sick rabbit. I tried to discern what the color of his cloak was, but it kept changing. Staring at it gave me a headache.

I shook my head as if to clear it. "Um. Yes. I was hoping one of my friends might hear me. Who are you?"

He rolled his eyes, also of unclear color, impatiently. "I run the Mirror-verse. Can I help you?"

"Mirror-verse?"

"Surely you're familiar with it? Most efficient method of inter-verse communication and transportation."

"Oh," I replied, nodding.

He arched a silver brow. "You're not familiar with it. But you were trying to use it to contact someone."

"Well," I said uncertainly, "I've got _passing_ familiarity with it."

"I have no idea what that means, nor do I care," he replied shortly. "I repeat: Can I help you?"

I supposed this guy was like a very rude telephone operator. Wonderful. "Well, like I told you, I was trying to talk with a friend. But none of my friends will answer."

"Uh-huh. And are your friends Aboveground, Underground, somewhere In Between, or in an otherwise Vague place?"

_That_ sent a thousand half-comprehensible questions flying through my head. I set them aside and tried to concentrate. "Uh. Underground, I think."

"Hang on." He reached a hand out, and I saw his ruddy finger tips press against the glass as though he were on the other side of a window. He made a disgruntled noise in his throat, and the twitching of his nose increased in frequency. "Strange. Communication from this mirror has been disabled."

"Oh," I mumbled. _Damn Jareth._

The man suddenly snatched his hand back, eyes wide. "Oh. Oh, I recognize this magic. Jareth's royal seal! Well, I can't help you then. You're on your own, young lady."

"Wait, please!" I begged, afraid he was going to disappear on me. "He's got me trapped in here! Isn't there _anything_ you can do to help me out?"

"And incite Jareth's bad mood? No thank you," he snorted. But a glimmer of interest had started in his eyes. "Why does the ruler of the Labyrinth have a girl locked up in his castle anyhow? You look mortal."

I frowned. "Because he's mad about something I did a million years ago, probably. Or he's just creepy. I don't know, I just want to get out of here!"

The corners of his mouth twitched. "I hear all the best gossip, you know. But I'm sworn to secrecy, so I keep it all to myself. Not that it bothers me—I'm entertained by other people's problems all day. Anyway, I digress." He rubbed thin hands together. "It wasn't so long ago that word traveled of Jareth's defeat at the hands of a mortal human. It was the biggest story for months. I'd always wondered what that mortal must be like."

I weighed certain factors. Then I straightened, adopted a slightly haughty expression, and replied, "Well, now you know."

This seemed to absolutely delight him, like someone who'd just spotted a celebrity on the street. "I knew it! The moment I saw you, I thought to myself, 'This must be the mortal who knocked Jareth off his high horse.' I just_ knew_ it! Ooh, I love my job sometimes!"

I was slightly disturbed by this utter transformation from his previously obnoxious and standoffish attitude. But you get help where you can get it, right? I begged, "Sir, can you help me out or not?"

"How are you trapped, exactly?" he asked, trying to quail the eagerness in his voice and failing. I moved aside to give him a view of the room and pointed to the thread hanging in the doorway.

"He's put a spell on that string. I can't get under or over it, and it's too strong to break."

He stroked his beard thoughtfully. The noise he made in his throat did not sound promising. "I don't know about breaking Fey spells. Especially such a small one. The smaller the spell, the harder to break." He shook his head hopelessly. "Jareth's magic made that spell, Jareth's magic is what will undo it."

I waited for more, but he just stared at me with his eyes of indiscriminate color. "...Is that all the advice you have?"

"What? I deal with the Mirror-verse. I'm no expert at Fey magic. I just eavesdrop on their conversations."

Struggling not to roll my eyes, I glanced back at the thread. So my only solution was to sit around, waiting for Jareth to come back? Play with the perfume he'd left me in this fancy room he'd created? I'd rather throw myself off a...

Hang on.

I stood up and grabbed the little stool I'd been sitting on. "Uh, sir? You've been a great help," not really, "but do you think you could go away? From the mirror, I mean."

"Why?" He sounded offended.

"Because I'm going to smash it."

"Oh," he said in surprise. Then, with dawning understanding, "_Oh_. I see. That's very clever. I don't know if it will work, but it's clever."

He started to fade, and I remembered something. "Hey, wait! I wanted to ask you. Do you know who Lady Alma is?"

His image in the mirror became whole again, and he frowned. "Of course. But I can't tell _you_." He tapped his lips. "Sworn to secrecy, remember?" And with one more pleased, "_very clever,_" he faded from sight.

I shrugged and hefted up the lacy stool. And I swung it like a bat at the vanity mirror which would have fetched a fortune back home.

The shatter was almost musical as a thousand little sparkling shards went flying and falling onto the vanity table and floor. In a hurry, afraid someone had heard, I snatched up a large shard of broken mirror, not caring when it nicked my thumb. I ran with it back to the door frame and began sawing at the enchanted thread.

For a few seconds it had about as much effect as a taking a pair of safety scissors to a bar of steel. But I felt the buzz of magic crackling at my hands and up my arms and was encouraged. After a few more seconds of trying, I was rewarded by a very small and sudden _snap!_

I nearly squealed in delight as the cut thread first fell and then disintegrated all together. The air cleared of the concentrated scent of magic, fading to the normal hums of energy that coated the Labyrinth. I hopped out into the hallway. When I glanced back at the bedroom, it had turned to gray stone like the rest of the castle, devoid of furniture. I half wished I had saved the perfume.

The mirror shard was still in my hand, some blood from my cut smearing a corner. I carefully slipped it into my back pocket, glad to be wearing denim.

Feeling a new weight lifted from my shoulders, I took stock of my surroundings. In front of me ran a long, dim hallway. To my right and left, the same. How familiar.

"Now, would you go left, or right?" I sang softly to myself, quoting Hoggle. I added, "Or forward? That's a new one."

New sounded good. I strode straight ahead, wondering how hard it would be to outsmart a goblin army a second time—by myself.

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A/N: This chapter was a bit hard for me to write. I'm still not sure about it. Please leave a review and tell me what you think. :3

Again, thank you to everyone who's left such kind reviews. You make me work harder! :D


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